


Into The Fire

by Michiko_Fukanzen



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Blood, Did I mention no one is a good person?, F/M, Fucked Up Shit, Graphic Sex, Graphic Violence, Like GoT, M/M, Mentions of incest, Murder, No one is a good person tbh, OOC sometimes, Plotting, Rape, Slow Build, War, tons of angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-11 19:59:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7067923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michiko_Fukanzen/pseuds/Michiko_Fukanzen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A foreign Princess is thrown into a world hanging on the brink of war when she marries the brutish King of Centris. His feud with the vile Emperor of Ylveria is either the key to world peace, or fire and brimstone. Now with the arrival of the mysterious Prince of Aelys, the princess holds a secret that could end the world as they know it. A crude dance of schemeing and murder and affairs begins, trampling all those who get in the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Romana

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning: If you didn't read the tags, I'm here to tell you this story isn't a good one. Leave now if you can't handle a little bite. Before each chapter, I take it as my responsibility to warn you of impending triggers or sensitive topics. That being said, I apologize for none of it. If you cannot handle the reality of it, you may kindly leave.
> 
> Another warning: No one is good. I can not stress this enough. Not even the main characters. If they seem to be doing the right thing, it's not. It's them being selfish and destructive. Sometimes they're good, sometimes they're bad, just like regular people. But when they're bad, they're BAD. It's politics, no one is a good politician (except for one or two, but I'm being general here). Don't get mad if your favorite character is a butt trumpet, I don't make the rules. Accept that everyone is terrible and we can move forward into hating and loving these idiots. (Don't excuse them for being bad just because they're nice for one chapter, either, cuz they're gonna be bad in the next) Remember: Murder, Rape, Cheating, and Abuse are all bad and people who do it are bad people, even these guys.
> 
> Updates Every Wednesday (or more often, depending on how long I plan to make this)
> 
>  
> 
> T.W for Chapter 1 (for all those who need it): Slight mention of rape. This chapter is tame. Don't get used to it.

A soft breeze passed through the quiet streets as the blazing orange sky grew darker with each passing hour. The warmth of the sun had settled long ago and now caused a distracting humidity to fill the great chambers of the palace and dark cellars of the vineyards. The aroma of a thousand flowers filled the air and intoxicated those few stragglers slowly dancing their way home. The sound of the ocean crashing against the steep cliffs of Mount Gradia and the silky sands of the Jorian shores pounded on in the distance, like a crude lullaby. The sleepy birds that crowded the lush trees had finished their song, and lazily flew home to keep their nests. 

Looking outside her window, Romana yawned loudly. Draped awkwardly over a chair, she gazed out at the beauty of nightfall over her city and felt nothing but the soft ache of wine in her brain and the very annoying stickiness of her clothes. 'If only the Gods and their mightiness would kindly put me out of my damned misery', she thought bitterly.

In the same room, seamstresses from the Hadria province busied themselves with elegant silks and satins, bunching them together in a haphazard array of material, making Romana glad the wedding was not taking place under the slick heat of Cypresian sun. Lady Florenza was there too, attempting to lecture Romana on the customs and traditions of Centris.

"-which is why it is of the utmost importance that you take care of that unruly state of hair, my young lady." She paused a moment to catch her breath and bark another order at the seamstresses. "The people of Centris are very, very picky. One hair out of place and you- no, ALL of Cypresia- will be the laughing stock of the nation!"

Romana rolled her eyes. "I can hardly imagine what 'that's' like!"

"You will do well to watch your manners, young lady! You represent us and, in due time, your husband. A bad attitude will get you far if you plan on being dismissed! I've heard that Lord Centra has a harem of mistresses waiting to snatch up the throne if you fail to perform!" Lady Florenza dabbed at the sheen forming on her brow, then giving up and pouring a cooling essence down her face onto her breasts. 

Romana tilted her head back, smirking. "I'm truly honored to be his official whore, really I am. But if he wants a well mannered wife, he should go buy one." She snorted at the irritated scowl her teacher made, and stood to shake out the loose drapes of her sheer night gown.

"Don't act coy with me, Romana. Your father commands it and the fate of our helpless nation rests on the success of this union. I'd say that is payment enough for your cooperation." Lady Florenza hissed. 

Romana glowered and stomped to her bed, violently flopping down on the crisp sheets. She groaned, "What, now I'm leverage? Does father suddenly view his precious daughters as pawns? What happened to peace and love throughout the known lands?"

Lady Florenza sighed in exasperation and shook her head. "We're done talking about this. There are more important things to discuss. You are still a virgin, my lady, and we must talk about-"

"Excuse me, my dearest teacher, there is nothing to talk about regarding my virginity. I plan to keep that till he pays." Romana giggled darkly. "For all I care, the heir can be some deformed bastard expelled from his well mannered sluts."

Lady Florenza slammed her hands down on Romana's desk, causing the seamstresses to jump and shriek. "Shame on you and your ancestors! How dare you speak so selfishly! It is the job of the Lady Centra to produce an heir and to bring honor to her husband and her family. You would disgrace all of Cypresia?"

Romana stood hastily, fire in her eyes. She screamed, "I am not some common girl! I am Lady Romana Feliciana Vargana and I am married to Cypresia! I did not ask for him and I will not have him! To hell with honor and damned be this union!"

A heavy silence filled the room. Romana and her teacher locked eyes, an electric current shooting through the two. The working girls eyed the scene cautiously, until a look from Lady Florenza sent them sewing with haste. A seamstress idly removed her soaked top and discarded it, carrying on with her work. Lady Florenza pointed at the girl, blistering. "You see this? This is how they see us. Perverse creatures with no shame. Willful savages and filthy laborers. Those northerners know nothing of heat, or of the sun god, or of what it means to be one with each other. We are a novelty to them, playthings! Do you know how many of our daughters lie in the beds of Centrian nobles? How many of our sons slave away endlessly in their fields, or cellars where their dark skin never touches the sun?" The elderly teacher, close to tears, rushed to Romana's side. "This is your chance to help the people understand. Wear your heritage proudly. You are Lady Romana of Cypresia, you always will be. But tomorrow, you must be Lady Centra, for all our sakes." Florenza finished, chest heaving and brow furrowed. Romana frowned, casting her eyes towards the ground. Lady Florenza nodded, and departed the room, calling the girls with her. 

Alone in her room, Romana slowly walked to her window. As she looked out over the now blackened sky and the dark shadows of the fruit trees, she tried to commit every last detail to memory. She found herself doing this a lot since her father, red-faced and grinning, announced her betrothal. She was perfectly fine to stay in the palace with her brother, spending their days stealing ripe fruits and sleeping on the beaches. She would miss the humidity, as ghastly as it was, and the cool sea breeze. The sun beating down as she sucked the sweet juices from orchard picks and drank the rich wines of the palace, fermented for as long as she walked the baked earth. She would miss the way people danced in the streets and carried themselves without shame. She would miss the smiles and the crowds and the children who ran to and fro naked and gleeful. She would miss her father, as idiotic as he was. His hopeless escapades and his hasty duels after a drink. She would miss his smile, his lullabies, his strong hands holding tight to hers as she cried. She would miss her brother, who was lazier than even her father. The way he bathed in the ocean surrounded by women, but never stayed if Romana were lonely. The silly way of thinking that only a child could appreciate, and the kindness and deepness of his heart that was truly admirable. She smiled forlornly at how much she wished they didn't fight. She wished she never told him she hated his face, she regretted all the vicious things that left her mouth. He was the only man she could ever love...

Love. Memories dissipating, she returned to the present, eyebrows knitting together. Heart racing, she thought about the mysterious Lord Centra, of what Hera told her about him, and the future she was promised him. She thought, with tears in her eyes, of her wedding night. She tried not to dwell on the nagging fears, or the voice of her teacher instructing her on her duties two nights before. A lone tear made a streak down the oil-slick of her skin when she remembered the bone chilling statement repeated to her over and over, haunting her sleep: "Lord Centris takes what he wants. Make sure you're what he wants." 

Romana involuntarily gasped and choked on her tears. She ground her face into her hands and screamed, collapsing to the ground. "Damn it! Damn it all! I am Cypresia! To hell with reason and law! To hell with Centris! To hell with you all!"

A soft knock came at the door. Romana stiffened. "Go away!" She wailed. Her voice cracked and she muffled her sobs in her arm.

A very quiet reply came from the opposite side of her door. "Romana? It's Feli. Please let me in." 

Stifling a gasp, Romana rose and nearly leapt to the door. Swinging it open, she was met with her little brother, looking frightened. She pulled him in and held him tight. "What the hell are you doing here? It's forbidden!" She sighed into his shoulder. Feliciano patted his sister on the head and laughed a little. "Forget it, I don't care." She breathed deeply, memorizing his scent. He smelled like fresh strawberries.

"I heard you screaming from across the palace! I wanted to make sure you're okay!" Feliciano gasped once released from his sister's death grip.

Romana smiled distantly. "I'm fine, really. Don't worry about me. Worry about your hair!" She snickered, trying to flatten his flyaway curl.

Feli giggled. "What about yours?"

"My hair is curly! It's natural!"

"And mine isn't?"

"You're blessed with Mama's hair. This little curl ruins it!"

The two laughed a little more, and Romana couldn't get enough. The sight of her baby brother, all grown up and breaking the law to cheer her up. He was an idiot, but an admirable idiot nonetheless. She wished it could last forever.

When Feli had sobered up, he looked Romana deep in the eye. "I don't want you to forget me, dear sister. Please," he pulled a small parcel from his leather pouch, "take this, so Cypresia will never leave you."

Fingering the soft package, Romana slowly opened it up. Inside, a polished ivory bracelet, with the Royal words etched into it. The Cypresian emblem was carved delicately and steadily, with a shining sapphire embedded inside. It was signed by Feliciano, and her father. She gasped a little at the gesture, almost in tears at the beauty.

Feli bounced on his feet anxiously. "Soooo... Do you like it?"

Romana rubbed at her face and smirked. "You know I hate jewelry!" The two laughed again, deeply and heavily. As Romana saw her brother out, for the very last time, an ache started in her stomach. She wanted to call out to him, beg him to run away with her, but she stayed silent all the way until he climbed over the garden wall. She smiled to herself and admired the way the bracelet complimented her wrist. She recited the words to herself over and over, drinking in the language of her ancestors.

She ambled over to bed, shedding her useless nightdress completely and crawling beneath the thin sheets. A passing thought reminded her that this would never be tolerated Centris, that she would never walk bare again. She frowned, struggling to sleep again. The end of her life, the abandonment of her culture, and the separation from her family pressed firmly on her skull. Tomorrow she would be wed to a total stranger and be his possession, a chip in the strange game the northerners insisted on playing. A scene played before her eyes of a pile of bodies, her's included, being trampled by two faceless kings at each other's throats. 

She squirmed and stared at the ceiling, searching for comfort. Hera's words rang in her ears: "I hear Lord Centris lies with the finest in the lands! You'll have to impress him to make a mark!" She turned and grasped her pillow. 'Just don't think about it. If you don't think about it, it won't hurt you.' Romana buried her face into her pillow and breathed heavily. "It only hurts the first couple times. After that, you hardly feel a thing." The ache in her stomach throbbed as Romana felt tears burn her eyes. "It is the job of the Lady Centra to produce an heir and to bring honor to her husband and her family." Hot bile rose in her throat and she shot up. She fell out of bed, vomiting all over, bitter tears fell down her face, words echoing over and over in her mind: "Lord Centra takes what he wants. Make sure you're what he wants."


	2. Alfred

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Real bad language, incomplete rape
> 
> A quick word, if I might:
> 
> In light of the Stanford rape case that has been disturbing and angering me for the past few days, I decided to edit the aforementioned rape. 
> 
> I know I said I don't apologize for my words, as everything I write has a purpose behind it, I felt very strongly about the message my previous draft was sending and I didn't like it. For those who have been following the case so far understand the brutality and harm rape causes. I never want it to seem like I am making light of or glamourizing rape (I have been on the receiving side of some disgusting assault, believe me that I know how terrible it is)
> 
> That being said, it is still here, in its barest form. I write everything with a purpose behind it. Cause and effect are the basis behind the plot, and I need the cause to continue with the effect. It was not thrown haphazardly in to demonize the rapist (even if he is a piece of shit), or to be hipster with a dramatic sexual assault (whatever the hell that is). Remember, just because your favorite character does the crime does NOT make it beautiful or okay.
> 
> This story does not have a whole lot of sexual assault to drive the plot (this is not Game of Thrones). Most times it is only mentioned or very brief and apparent who the wrong party is (hint: it's the rapist!). This was the only severe depiction of rape in the story, and is now boiled down to appease my conscience.
> 
> This was a long note, but I need you all to understand my feelings and my attitude towards the acts these assholes commit. 
> 
> I'm still not apologizing, but I'm not a monster.
> 
> (Btw: from this chapter forward, I will be updating every THURSDAY. It's random and I like it)

The once roaring fire now crackled uselessly in its grand pit. Heavily burned candles illuminated the tired faces of all the council, staring dumbly into the distance as Alfred paced vigorously. A wolf bayed in the distance, and cold wind rattled the shutters of the hall. Several members of the council pulled their cloaks tighter and adjusted themselves in their seats, awkwardly stewing in their own silence. Every once in a while, Alfred would stop a moment, and the council would perk up in anticipation, but would then curse and continue his tirade throughout the room. It had been hours since they had made any progress with the young king.

"My Lord, please seat yourself. We need an answer." The wizened magistrate called from his perch beside Alfred's empty one. The council breathed a sigh of relief that the silence had been broken.

"I gave you an answer: destroy the little bastards!" Alfred barked. The council groaned and rubbed at their drooping faces.

"My Lord, as I have said, it is unwise to respond with violence against the Emperor!" The lord commander of the Royal army rose. "Our army is half the size of your fathers, and a third of the Ylverian Knights! Not to mention a good portion are to be sent to those Southern savages."

Alfred massaged his temples, exhaustion and stress building up. "What am I supposed to do then? If I let that damn psychopath run around as he pleases, we are practically inviting them to invade!" The king shouted at the useless men gathered before him. They hung their heads, searching for a way to appease their master. "Did you not see the carnage? All the children gone, taken to be Ylverian slaves and prostitutes! Every man and woman beheaded and burning! Is that what you want of our mighty nation?" Alfred pounded his fists on the table his men were seated round. 

It was the old magistrate who stood next. "My Lord, Centris is not strong enough. I've heard tell that Emperor Ylvania is consorting with Aelys." A hush fell over the congregation, shock at the implication heightening. "An ally that strong and fierce could destroy us all. Take heed, my young Lord." The old magistrate finished, slowly sitting again.

Alfred stared at the faces of his council, looking lost and confused. The king snorted and shoved away from the table, stomping to the window. A light snow covered the castle town, making everything look dead under the moonlight. He tried to imagine it all burning, with the screams of his people deafening and harsh. He wrung his hands together as he envisioned that cold eyed monster grinning wickedly over him, bringing down the blade on his neck.

"Lord Centra, a message." Alfred shook himself from the vision and turned to see a small pageboy carrying a bird. He knew that bird, and it sent shivers down his spine. It was a northern eagle, the one his spies in Ylveria used to send critical information. He quickly marched over and untied the message attached to the eagle. His unsteady hands fumbled with the parchment, and he shook even as he read. With every word, the dread sunk further and further in. 

"Ketyr is dead. Union with Aelys. Queen with child." Alfred read aloud. Murmurs echoed through the hall. Alfred angrily crumpled the paper and tossed it into the dying fire. He nearly picked up boy and hurled him too. "That bastard has the audacity to invade my land and then go and die?" Alfred howled.

"Sir, it's impossible! Those inbred dogs would never pollute their bloodline with Aelystaan kind! It's unheard of!" The master accountant exclaimed.

"This does fill me with unease. Why change thousands of years of tradition?" The old magistrate furrowed his overgrown brows and stared deeply at the table. 

Alfred laughed. "Well, looks like we've all got Southern allies! It's a shame we got stuck with those lazy savages instead of the richest nation in the known lands!" The council shifted in unease at the king's display. Alfred glared around the room one last time, then made for the door.

"Your grace! Please! We need an answer!" The council shouted and begged. Alfred paused halfway out the door and turned his head over his shoulder.

"Tomorrow's my wedding. I refuse to burden my bride with such matters. After that, if we do not receive formal word from Ylveria, we march on the North." Alfred stated with finality and slammed the door on his stunned advisors.

\-----

The king panted heavily as he sloppily kissed his mistress. She slowly undid his cloak and shirt, revealing his soft chest. She laughed breathlessly. "I had no idea Lord Centra was so like a woman." 

"And I had no idea I paid you to talk, whore." Alfred jibed. The woman pouted and worked down to undo his trousers.

"There is no need to be rude, your grace. My name is Emma, by the way. Whore is just too formal for this occasion." Emma grinned. "And you didn't exactly pay me to keep quiet, did you? I'm afraid your experience would be rather dull if I did." 

Alfred grabbed her hair and yanked her close to his face. "I'm afraid you do not know your place, woman." He spun her around and ripped her dress open. She gasped, but caught herself and laughed it off. 

"I know my place, Lord Centra." She smirked. "It's in the beds of nobles and royalty, getting to know them better than their wives." Alfred laughed at this, pulling her close so their hot skin pressed together. "What of you, your majesty? Do you know your place?"

Alfred bit down into Emma's shoulder, eliciting a shriek, and tossing her to his bed. As he mounted her, he remembered earlier that evening, and was filled with excitement. "Me? I belong on the throne. I belong with my foot on that damn Ylverian's head, his wife and children my slaves." Alfred moved his hands slowly, and Emma squirmed and groaned in response. "My purpose is to crush the north, to burn the ice people and hear them scream." Alfred lined himself up and pushed in, Emma gasping with pleasure, but Alfred did not hear. He could see the hot flames now, licking the snow and painting the sky crimson. "I will be the one to stamp out the fear of my people. I will be the one who finishes what my ancestors started. We will be the fear of the known lands." Alfred moved slowly as he lost himself in thought. Emma took the chance to flip him over and stare down at the flushed king.

"That's mighty ambitious of you, my Lord." Emma rode the king painfully slow, and Alfred looked impatient. "And what of your bride? Will she stand with you?"

Alfred groaned as Emma picked up the pace, and his mind wandered to his impending marriage. He thought of the Cypresian people, all weak and shameless. He grimaced at the idea of a willful woman that the Cypresian Princess was said to be. "She will stand by me or she will kneel by me, it's her choice." He said bitingly.

Emma sneered. "Seems like a poor reward for your protection of Cypresia. Wouldn't you rather a mound of gold?" Emma moved forcefully, causing the king to whimper like an animal.

"Ha! That is about as likely as a good fuck from Ylvania!" Alfred snickered. "The poor Lord of Cypresia only had his eldest to offer, no money or gifts. I would've at least expected some of their wine so I could forget I married a savage." Emma laughed viciously. She pressed her self close to the king and let him kiss down her chest.

"My lord, it is such a waste that a man like you be pawned away by a nation as weak as Cypresia." Emma felt close as she relentlessly rode the gasping king, his eyes squeezed shut in sweet agony. "Something so foreign and strange, when you could have something so common and familiar. Lord Centra takes what he wants, after all-"

Alfred's eyes shot open, a dark gleam in them. He grabbed Emma's wrist and sat up to meet her. She gasped and stopped moving, terrified at the horrible scowl on her king's face. "What? Would you take her place? A common whore?" Alfred growled. Emma's eyes darted away from his, but he grabbed her face and forced her to look at him. "You think I want you? Lady Centra, a whore with pretty eyes and a well seasoned cunt?" Alfred firmly flipped Emma on her stomach and held her face in the pillows. "How dare you find yourself so mighty as to look a king in the face. How dare you question a king's honor? You are a vile woman, and you are good for nothing but keeping a man's bed." He pulled her hips up and forced himself into her, pounding quickly and deeply. Emma's pained whimpers were muffled, but Alfred didn't care. He kept going, releasing his anger over and over again. "The heir to the throne will not be some slut's brat. You wish to taint the royal blood of my ancestors? Maybe something foreign will learn to keep its place." 

The room was filled with Alfred's angered shouts and Emma's muffled cries. The fire had died and the cold air filled the space. All the world was silent, waiting on baited breath. Alfred was far away, somewhere familiar. His father was arguing with the massive former Emperor, and a boy no less than ten years Alfred's senior sneered at him. The boys soft, menacing voice cut through the angry words and venomous threats: "Such a weak little thing! You are not ready for the storm." But he wasn't! He was just a boy! Not 4 years of age, but men can smell fear like blood in the water. His brother was there, their mother, their father... All taken by people stronger. But why wasn't he strong enough to save them, or his country from the imminent war with the icy Ylverians? Should they suffer for his pride?

And Alfred cried. Tears fell down his face in silence. The mighty King Alfred of Centris reduced to a helpless boy, screaming at the world that he was powerful. Looking down at the mess he'd made, everything screamed at him to stop, no matter how powerful he felt. What did any of this prove? He could bring a whore to her knees but not the North? 

He slowed his movements and stopped all together, shoving away from the limp girl, distantly aware of his shameful actions but too tired to even care. He fell weakly to the cold stone ground and covered his face, shaking miserably. Emma turned her head slowly, and sat up stiffly, glaring at the king. "Mighty King indeed, not even strong enough to finish himself off on a slut." She picked up her dress and donned a traveling cloak. "God help Centris." And Emma departed, tossing her sack of gold back at the fallen Lord.

Alfred sat there for what seemed to be hours. He stared with empty sadness at his hands and hoped to God it would end, like falling asleep. He would pass like a bad dream, a failed King who couldn't even save one village, let alone an entire nation. God help Centris, indeed.

It wasn't until the old magistrate pulled him to his feet and urged him into bed that Alfred allowed his sense to return to him. Humiliation and anger mutated from his grief, and he hated it. But maybe things didn't have to be so obvious. Perhaps he was looking at this problem from the wrong angle. He felt positively giddy at the idea."Master Edwin." He called firmly. 

The old magistrate paused. "Yes, Lord Centra?" Alfred sat up in bed, clutching his sheets tightly. His face was gaunt and pale, but a smile played at his lips.

"I have you an answer." The king explained himself fully and completely, the old magistrate appearing more and more uneasy.

"Is this wise, m'lord?" Master Edwin asked finally, as if deciding if his lord was insane or not, but the king was hard set.

"My word is final. Let it be known so preparations may begin." Alfred waved his hand to dismiss his magistrate, who quickly shuffled from the scene. "Wait."

Master Edwin stopped again, anxious for his masters request. "Yes, Lord Centra?"

"The girl I was with earlier has committed treason." Alfred grinned.

"What has the poor girl done?" 

"She spoke against the crown and Centris, possibly an Ylverian spy, trying to extort my secrets..." Alfred wasn't kidding himself, and he knew the magistrate was just as skeptical.

"What would you have me do?" Master Edwin sighed.

"What you do to all traitors of the crown. Burn her"


End file.
